That one pearl far beyond all price
Cannot be found in halls of trade
Nor hidden deep in crowns of kings
Or earned with well intentioned deeds
Who could have guessed it waits for those
Who huddle in rain sodden ways
And cuddle newsprint to stay warm
Who trade their last dream for a smoke
Who long ago have given up
Illusions - hope gone down the drain
They will not find it on their own
It’s given them, a gift from God.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem